


A Mace Motherfucking Windu Story

by Jaded_Bean



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), Comic in chapter 3, Crack, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mace Windu Lives, No Plot/Plotless, No one stops the motherfucker, Swearing, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23402893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaded_Bean/pseuds/Jaded_Bean
Summary: Mace Motherfucking Windu is a #BadMotherfucker: electrocuted, thrown through a fucking window, fell like 10,000 bloody feet like holy shit what the fuck– “Tis but a flesh wound motherfucker,” The bad motherfucker whispers into my ear (err... This isn't a romance).This is trash. Delayed warning for swearing...
Comments: 24
Kudos: 27





	1. Return of the Motherfucker

Mace Windu was in a great deal of motherfucking pain. His stubby right arm burned white hot like a white-ass stripper wrapped in Christmas lights, (you know, now that I think about that metaphor doesn’t really make any sense-) A cruel motherfucking reminder of Skywalker’s mutiny.

 _Fucking ass shitting tits;_ Mace Windu was an angry motherfucker. **Damn motherfucking angry.**

That reckless, no good, self-centred little shit had the **audacity** to cut off **his** hand! Motherfucker he needed that hand!

No matter, bad motherfuckers like Mace Windu didn’t cry over decapitated limbs. Skywalker would get his, as would that slimy sonofabitch Darth Sidious. _More like Darth Scrotum_ (haha yeah good joke me, it’s fifth grade all over again). Scrotum’s newly deformed face wasn’t doing no favours for him though.

Anyone out there considering Palpatine for a “Slip and noodle” right now would really have to lower their expectations to ground zero. Negative zero. So far below zero, that they are zooming past the point of infinity, trapped in an infinite loop floating through the black, cold abyss of deep space, never to be found again. NOBODY in their right mind would willingly strip down, lay back and think of the Empire as that moulding sith lord sticks his melting candle stick inside them, (No fuck it, I would 110% let Ian dress up as the SENATE and whisper Darth Plagueis tragedies while we cosplayed Anakin’s heroic battle with sand).

At least Windu didn’t have to worry about any Palpatine offspring.

(What. The. Ever-loving. FUCK. _Rise of the Skywalker_ you slut! You were the chosen one! Who the FUCK was sitting in that board room meeting saying “Hey so what if Palpatine is actually a father? Like what if he had a kid, you know? Yeah, you know, the sadistic, psychopathic maniac who groomed a 9-year-old to commit genocide and discreetly turned the cogs for a galactic fucking war, what if – No Bob shut the fuck up I’m onto something here – WHAT IF he ‘Oiled some Onions’ and made a ‘Smaller onion?’ Let’s make him a family manTM.” And then the fucking movie book comes out and it’s like, “Oh but Palpatine is actually dead for reals, but he made a clone and transferred his consciousness into that clone body – No Bob, stop asking FUCKING questions, don’t make me eat your donuts you potato! – and what if that clone had a clone baby, and that clone had a real baby with a real woman and that baby is Rey.”

…

(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

 **What the fuck Star Wars?** Why you gotta get fucking weird with Palpatine’s sex life like this? Now instead of him fucking women all I can think about is him fucking that curvy ass architecture on Kamino).

Nope, nothing to worry about. Safe as shit dawg. This is why Windu is jedi for life. You can “Slip, slop, slap,” with no attachments, and you still look good (use sunscreen people).

#JediForLife #FuckTheSith #MotherfuckingMaceWindu

Windu grunted a great manly, motherfucking grunt, pushing himself to his motherfucking feet. He turned around to glare up at the motherfucking senate building, it’s… roundness glistening in the motherfucking moonlight??? It was a long way down from the chancellor’s office. Like… that was a lot of height between him and where he fell (yeah, those sentences were real bloody great… My literature major has served me well).

Mace Windu really was a badass motherfucker.

Smiling at this realisation, Master Motherfucking Windu scanned the motherfucking area for his motherfucking lightsaber. But… It was nowhere to be motherfucking seen.

“Motherfucker.” Was all Windu could mutter.

Shrugging, because Mace Windu doesn’t _feel_ the pain of loss- (Well, um... actually that's not... Jedi actually do-), _-_ **NOT A MOTHERFUCKING FEELING COULD BE FELT.** Windu decided he’ll just ask the temple guards to find the lightsaber for him. He was a jedi councillor, a MASTER (something that, unfortunately, some jedi will never understand tsk, tsk), he was Mace Motherfucking Windu, he didn’t have time to scramble around in the dirty streets of Coruscant.

Master Motherfucking Windu began his long limp back towards the jedi temple. All he needed was a robotic hand and his lightsaber (HIS lightsaber, Mace Windu will not use any other colour but purple, it was the best colour, only touched by the best combatant, and damn what a great looking lightsaber, perfect in every way), and he’ll be ready to take on Darth Scrotum and his newly acquired man stripper.

\---

By the fucking force was the walk back to the temple long. Mace Windu had on several occasions, almost given in to the dark side of the force to steal a speeder. And if he had given in, he’d be the best sith ever. Nobody could match the sithness of his alter sith self. Motherfucking Windu knew this well, because sometimes people would look at him and say, “Woah, he’d be a cool ass sith.” But Motherfucking Windu didn’t give in to the darkside. Never. He was a jedi. The best jedi. No jedi was better than Mace Windu. Why? Because he was the only jedi who could say the word n##### and safely get away with it.

Weirdly, people got excited when he said the word n#####. They all looked at each other and giggled like schoolgirls. During one _very_ boring council meeting, Master Windu added it to one of his sentences for _spice._ Needless to say, the councillors all swooned.

Seriously though… Why is Mace Windu the only motherfucking black dude here? Obviously, Motherfucking Windu was going to have to take matters into his own hands and gather up some homies once he’d single-handedly destroyed the sith forever.

The jedi master (something Anakin Skywalker will **never** understand (love you Ani kisses xx)) halted at the entrance of the jedi temple. Something was wrong. He couldn’t sense any lifeforms inside.

He had a bad motherfucking feeling about this.

The bad motherfucker limped through the grand entrance and saw… what no jedi should ever see… someone’s been spilling blood into the temple’s fine carpet. Motherfucker that carpet was expensive. _This_ was why they never allowed visitors, they come in with their dirty shoes and their bleeding wounds and destroy the carpet, **forcing** the council to make the only **logical decision** , and spend half a million credits on carpet cleaners.

Every jedi knows from a young age, that stepping onto the carpet with dirty boots is punishable by expulsion (they’re not murderers… well they are… but they do it nicely; they don’t play with their food, you know? lol).

Grumbling, Mace Windu stepped over the patches of blood, but stopped suddenly, realising that the blood being spilt was jedi blood.

Dude, there’s like bodies everywhere! (How in the fuck did Anakin kill all those people? Darth Vader’s a clumsy fuck, Robot ChickenTM don’t lie cause it’s canon in my eye’s eye).

Already, Mace could tell this had something to do with the walking barbie doll and his hoodlum master. He could smell the brat’s bratty scent all over the damn place.

“Motherfucker,” Windu whispered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. “A motherfucker gonna die for this.”

(And now, a brief flashback)

“N#####” Mace Windu stated confidently, leaning forward, expression nonchalant.

“Oh, Master Windu!” Luminaria cried, taking hold of her breasts, and sliding off the council chair, “You have such a way with words!”

Obi-Wan followed suit, lifting a dramatic hand over his forehead and floundering across the room like a ballerina, “I’ve never heard something so raw!” He dropped suddenly and lay back to pose like a twi’lik model. “UghhhhhhhhaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhnnnggggmmmmmmmmmmmmmMMMMMmmmm,” He grunted/moaned/exhaled/breathed/clapped his cheeks.

Several other members had simply fainted, unable to take the full force of Mace Windu’s delicate words. But Mace Windu could forgive this. It’s difficult for such delicate creatures to fully understand the gravity of what has just been said. Their entire existence, everything they’ve ever known collapses into a puddle of mush, only to be reborn into followers of the Motherfucker and his wise words. If the sun was a star than Mace Windu WAS their source of light and vitamin D (and cancer if a motherfucker’s having a bad day). The church of Mace Windu takes no prisoners. He puts the D in #AddictionToABadMotherfucker.

Aalya had snuck behind the BAD MOTHERFUCKER and began massaging his shoulders with her firm, strong fingers, “You know, I like a man who knows what he’s talking about.” She leans in close to his ear, “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind sharing more of your deep thoughts with me later on? I own a double-bladed ‘lightsaber’” Then she winked suspiciously.

Adi-Ki Mundi also blushed at the sound of such a beautifully crafted statement and had removed ALL his clothes. The man with the head shaped like a penis, sat across his chair like a pro-gamer and winked when Windu looked his way. “I own a leather dress,” He stated simply, adding nothing else to the conversation, only staring intently into the Bad Motherfucker’s eyes waiting for a reaction.

From the corner of his eye, Mace spotted Plo Koon reaching behind his chair to grab a bottle of alcohol. The Kel Dor opened the bottle, but when he realised his mask was in the way of his (not at all terrifying) mouth (have you seen the internet pictures?), he opted to pour it over his head, hoping it would absorb through his skin. When the bottle was completely empty, he took a deep breath and announced confidently, “I have an enormous penis.”

Kit Fisto smiled 😊 THEN HE RIPPED OFF HIS CLOTHES WITH ONE SINGLE, HARIY CHESTED MANLY YANK TO REVEAL THE HEAVY DUTY BDSM GEAR UNDERNEATH. HE ROARED A MIGHTY ROAR AND PULLED A WHIP OUT FROM HIS LEATHER BELT, CRACKING IT AGAINST THE HARD FLOOR. Then he winked 😉 and smiled 😊.

When Shaak Ti came too, (since she fainted with many of the other members, you know, cause Mace Windu has _such a way with words_ ), she crawled her way to Mace Windu’s feet and gazed up at him, “I think I just became one with the force,” She stated, dazed, but when Mace Windu said nothing she frowned and propped herself up higher to speak in a hardened tone, “No, seriously, I almost fucking died. Don’t say that again. I thought I was a goner! Do you know how much shit I haven’t done yet? Do you know how embarrassing it would have been if I died HERE of all places in the middle of a fucking war???? Are you even listening to me-”?

“Weed, I need,” Yoda groaned pulling a smoke from his belt and lighting it. After taking a long drag, he looked up at Mace with glazed eyes and said, “Foresaw this event I did… Prepared myself I have.”

Mace Windu leaned back comfortably into his chair, Aalya still massaging his shoulders. The bad motherfucker with 11 new booty calls crossed his arms smugly. He knew saying it a second time would probably kill the councillors, and he wasn’t ready to explore that kink yet.

“-Like for FUCKS SAKE Master Windu have you no compassion-” Shaak Ti ranted on, still struggling to process the bad motherfucker’s glorious decisions beyond our comprehension of understanding.

“I need a drink.” Windu stated, raising his chin to increase his “Bad Motherfucker” aura.

There was a pause, before all the councillors raced to their feet and fought TO THE DEATH to climb into the elevator. They punched, kicked, and screamed at each other, their loud cries dying out as the elevator descended.

“-Fuck me I don’t even get fucking paid you know-” Master Ti went on, going full throttle with her passionate argument.

Yep, another successful motherfucking meeting.

“Psst,” Mace Windu frowned and turned to see Yoda still staring at him, holding out his cigarette, “Will weed do?”

(Flashforward to the present)

Thinking back, maybe Windu shouldn’t have been so quick to end that boring ass meeting. They were discussing the possibility of a Sith in the senate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Satan below WHAT have I done?


	2. I’m Sick of these Motherfucking Sith in this Motherfucking Senate!

“Motherfucker, motherfucker, motherfucker, motherfucker,” Mace Windu chanted through gritted teeth as he jogged to the motherfucking medical bay.

Because boi, it hurts like a bitch having your hand cut off. That’s some painful fucking shit. But motherfuckers like Mace aren’t afraid of a little searing pain. Mace Windu might have a newfound respect for Anakin… (because you know, his hand was cut off, and now Mace has his hand cut off… and now they share the same pain… yeah, I know, real fucking creative and original). But only a little respect. Like a tiny smidge of respect. Imagine walking through a beach and picking up a handful of sand, then separating all the sands until only one tiny grain of sand remains… THAT was the amount of respect motherfucking Mace Windu had for the sith’s newfound mascot.

Just because the boi got his hand cut off don’t give him permission to cut off the limbs of Windu’s favourite people (for example, Master Windu, Mace Windu, and Mace Motherfucking Windu). Plenty of people lose their limbs, you don’t see them zipping around, slapping off people’s hands? This is a _society. Ugh!_

Mace stepped into the medical bay. Empty. Not a motherfucker in sight.

Looks like he was gonna have to connect his own motherfucking hand. It’s a shame he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing, but no matter, Mace Motherfucking Windu would work it out.

Without a single, bone crushing, ounce of fear coursing through his manly abs, Master Windu bravely downed a whole bottle of painkillers. He hummed at his own _genius big, brained power move_ and collapsed.

“Woah… Motherfucker,” Mace Windu groaned, opening his motherfucking eyelids which hide eyes behind them (lol what a sentence).

All around him, purple. It was like he was floating in space, but everything was purple. And there were purple stars. PURPLE STARS EVERYWHERE! This must be the mysterious, mythical “Purple Land.” Mace Windu knew it was real, all the other jedi laughed at him but now he’s proved them wrong, purple land was real.

And he was naked. Butt naked. As naked as a baby straight out of the womb. But this wasn’t a womb, and Mace Windu wasn’t a baby, he was a man. A Manly man with abs and shit. His abs had abs. Mace Windu was sexy as fuck. And he was in the greatest land of all… Purple Land.

In the distance, Master Windu spotted something sparkling. Oh, but it couldn’t be… His motherfucking Lightsaber!

“Motherfucker!” Mace Windu called out gleefully!

“Motherfucker!” It yelled back.

Mace Windu did a butterfly swim towards the magnificent device, his bits swaying around in slow motion, like a deformed ballerina (or like a cat’s tail when the cat’s pissed but pretending that it’s trying to remain polite, but awkwardly positioned in a place where a tail would not usually be (This is in a zero-gravity situation, I’m just making uneducated guesses as to how a penis would move in space)).

“Motherfucker I didn’t know you could talk!” The jedi master reached out for the hilt and turned it around, observing its unmatched beauty.

Out of the purple, two googly eyes popped out, and a nose, and a mouth with red lipstick because the bad motherfucking lightsaber can be whoever the fuck it wants to be.

“Damn motherfucker, why didn’t you tell me before?” Mace asked [insert further descriptions of penis becoming erect here].

“Motherfucker you never asked!” The lightsaber replied in a deep, macho voice [“gigidy”].

They stared at each other longingly, it’s been two hours since they’ve seen each other. That’s too much damn time apart. Mace Windu didn’t think he’d ever see the metal beast again, let alone learn that it could speak. Motherfucker this was the bestest, most beautiful day of his life. And there was absolutely nothing to be suspicious about right now. Nope. So what that space was purple? Purple is the greatest colour to ever exist (seriously, I will fight to the death over this fact. Purple is the combination of the two most versatile colours, Sith Red and Jedi Blue. So already you have the power of two OP colours in your arsenal. But here’s the thing, different shades of Red and Blue create different shades of purple. My prom dress was purple (Lilac to be precise), automatically making it the most motherfucking badass dress at prom. Give me an example of a purple that hasn’t instantly made something more badass. Lightsabers, milk, jerseys, makeup, nebulas, cars, paint, Baby Yoda. Purple is where it’s at my friends).

And they continued to stare, observing each other’s attractive features (which were like, all of them, duh).

“Well…” Mace Windu began, clutching the lightsaber a little tighter, “I’ve seen enough motherfucking reality TV to see where this is motherfucking going motherfucker.”

“Oh, you have such a way with words, Mace Motherfucking Windu.” The lightsaber cooed softly, attempting to lean in but it couldn’t because it’s a lightsaber, and to be honest if lightsabers were alive that would be real fucking miserable because you were basically created for the act of killing. Imagine a lightsaber being switched on and going “Fuck, here we go again” before it starts screaming as it’s chucked around by some knob head hell bent on murdering everyone in the room, like can’t they decide whether or not they want to kill these people (apparently the crystals are alive so maybe this is true (○口○ ). But that’s just a theory, a fucked theory).

And they pet a fucking poodle (literally, this ain't porn).

Figure One: Err... As I said, not porn. What you see above is simply a traditional greeting between a lightsaber and a bad motherfucker.

\---

Mace Windu woke up, completely unaffected by his dream (because the author drew it as a joke and was compelled to share her art with the world against the better judgment of common sense).

“Hello there,” A familiar voice greeted smugly, creating the same image inside readers minds across time and space because nobody can get through a single fucking day anymore without thinking about that meme-

The bad motherfucker looked up in the direction of the voice, “General Kenobi. You’re a bald one.”

Obi-Wan touched his head, blushing, “Yeah, turns out Mustafar is pretty hot. It’s impossible to breath down there (but the author doesn’t know the technical terms for the chemicals involved and can’t be bothered looking it up). Weirdly, I only lost my hair, and nothing else.”

“Hmm.”

“So anyway, did you swallow an ENTIRE bottle of pain killers? Why?” The usually composed jedi made dramatic hand movements, waving them about sharply to help make his point more dramatic like the dramatic bitch he is, “What in the force’s name could have compelled you to act so rashly? Jar Jar Binks would’ve made a more rational decision in that moment.”

Mace Windu said nothing, electing to just glare at the attractive jedi.

“Jar Jar! Do you hear me Mace Windu? _Jar Jar Binks_ is more rational than you.”

Still no response.

“Jar Jar-”

“It’s been a long day alright motherfucker,” Mace Windu shot back, crossing his arms like a child.

Obi-Wan only sighed, placing his nice ass hands on his nice ass hips, “By the way, we’ve replaced your hand.”

Mace Windu glanced at his new hand, doing his best to look unimpressed, though his eyes couldn’t help but light up at the sight. It was awesome. It was the greatest hand he’d ever seen. He was going to do so many things with this hand. The turbo charged settings inspired so many ideas, so much potential. And it would look good doing anything, holding anything… (No not that you weirdo, he’s going to knit, what the fuck-) But he was too pissed to say thank you, so he just grunted.

“Whatever, I’m going to go do something productive, like watch Padme’s babies cry.”

“Oh, _Skywalker’s_ kids. Tell Padme not to expect any child support from _Darth Boy Toy_ ,” Mace Windu grumbled, “All the money he earned posing for the jedi calendar, was gambled away on pod racing.”

“Yeah, I know. I scolded him for it.” Obi-Wan hesitated for a second, wavering at the door, “And err… Padme’s dead.”

“Excuse me?” Windu couldn’t believe it (I couldn’t believe it WTF) “Dead? Padme? But she was so badass in _The Clone Wars TM_”

“I know, but _Revenge of the Sith TM_ came out first, and she didn’t appear in the _Originals_.”

“But the _Originals_ don’t start for twenty years! Motherfucker she could’ve started the rebellion. There could’ve been a whole arc there about Padme being motherfucking badass, killing stormtroopers and having a rivalry with her former jedi turned sith husband. It’ll just be weird now if in twenty years one of her kids describe her appearance as beautiful in _Return of the Jedi TM_ despite never meeting her.”

(And she died of sadness! Goddammit man! Sadness! Padme was so fucking badass then she dies of sadness. Grrrrr I’m still mildly angry about this! (look I know there’s this whole theory about Sideous transferring her life essence into Darth Vader, and that’s pretty cool, but Padme’s death was still stupid)).

“I KNOW!” Obi-Wan yelled back, “But it’s done now. No take backs. We’ve just got to roll with it.”

Mace Windu narrowed his eyes, “You’re not planning on hiding for twenty years on a dead-end sand planet, are you? Twenty years is a long ass time to be sitting around on a planet made entirely of sand. Cause there’d be a real nice arc for you too. Former best friends fighting it out. Best friend turned terrorist fights best friend turned genocidal maniac, dancing around each other for two decades.”

Obi-Wan laughed nervously, “You know we can’t do that.”

“You motherfucker!” Mace Windu jumped out of his bed, “Motherfucker our stories can’t be slapped around like this!”

“Then what are we going to do?” Obi-Wan asks curiously.

“Time Travel.”

“… W-what?”

“TIME TRAVEL MOTHERFUCKER!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plotlines that are suddenly dropped in the final chapter:
> 
> > Mace Windu’s search for his lightsaber.  
> > Mace Windu’s cool robotic hand is just his normal hand now.  
> > The plan to get revenge on Anakin Skywalker.  
> > Mace Windu’s (innocent) relationship with his lightsaber.  
> > Mace Windu and Obi-Wan’s distaste for how Padme’s death was handled.


	3. Back to the Motherfucker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're having trouble seeing the images let me know. It's the only section in this dumpster fire story worth reading.


End file.
